


Winding Road

by toomanycurls



Series: Before the Sun Sets (HP Next-Gen) [5]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Community: HPFT, Domestic Violence, LGBTQ Character, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-04
Updated: 2016-08-04
Packaged: 2018-07-29 06:35:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7673815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toomanycurls/pseuds/toomanycurls
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Scorpius is trying to recover after an abusive relationship but finds it hard to move on. </p><p>
  <em>Spoilers for True Romance</em>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Winding Road

_A man’s face is inches from my own, contorted in the combination of anger and love that only he can produce. I feel his grip tighten around my wrist, pinning me to the bed. Struggling to be free of his grip, I try to move but am paralyzed._

_“You’re mine,” he says in my ear with his lips brushing against sensitive skin._

I wake with a start, reaching for my wand and lighting the room around me. Taking in a deep breath, I look around the large, austere room and feel a sense of security wash over me. Malfoy Manor never felt like home growing up but since returning from Paris and _him_ it has been a sanctuary. Wiping the sweat from my forehead, I glance at the clock – it is 2 a.m.

It has been just over a month since I left Corbin. Six weeks, three days, and slightly over 14 hours but I am still terrified that it has all be a dream. Could I still be trapped in the abuse and merely fantasize about being back in London with those who love and care for me?

At this thought, I slide out of bed and begin to pace the room. The floor feels cool against my feet – the sensation grounds me in reality. I am exhausted but know sleep will be a reluctant friend after being so rudely interrupted. Deciding that I should at least do _something_ , I sit at the desk and begin to go through paperwork for my businesses.

With all the emotional distress and upheaval in my life, numbers are a comfort. They are facts that do not impose difficult memories or longings that should be suppressed. Doing sums and calculating balances allows me to purge extraneous information from my mind and brings a sense of satisfaction. All I need to do is make sure to balance assets against liabilities.

 _Corbin is a liability_ _– one I may not have the current assets to cover._

I shake my head, hoping to rid myself of the thought and return to the simple math. It’s clear that I’m carrying too much inventory, so I draft a letter to my shopkeeper with instructions to remedy this unnecessary financial risk. I continue work until my eyes become too heavy for more progress to be made. Getting out of the chair and returning to the comforts of bed risks becoming more alert. As I cannot face the potential of remaining awake with troublesome thoughts, memories, and regrets, I drift to sleep with my cheek resting against a ledger and do not stir for a handful of hours.

The morning sun makes it impossible to continue sleeping so I extricate myself from the uncomfortable position and dress for the day. I cannot say that I feel rested but there is definite relief that I made it through the night. Mother and Father are downstairs in the study when I make an appearance.

“Scorpius!” Mother trills in the same overly cheery tone she’s used since my return. “Did you sleep well? We’ve just had breakfast so it’s still hot.” She calls for the house-elf who brings a tray with tea, toast, and fruit.

Taking a seat, I tell her, “I slept better last night.” It’s the truth but not completely honest. I do not wish to trouble Mother as it pains her to know I am suffering. Part of me thinks she knows when I withhold information but our devoutly polite family etiquette dictates that one never pries into such matters.

Kal pours my tea and adds a twist of lemon. “I can bring you eggs, bacon – anything you’d like, Master Scorpius.” The pity in his offer rings louder than a bell – he hardly offers suggestions for what we would like, preferring that we think of our own food choices. I’ve known the house-elf my entire life and I decide that his care is genuine but I cannot think of anything more I want to eat. As Kal leaves with a courteous bow, I look momentarily at my mother’s smiling face and then to Father.

“Are you going back to the Ministry today?” I ask after a bite of toast. Father is less openly distraught by my situation but shows his outrage by campaigning at the Ministry for a change in law. Domestic abuse is not a crime legislated by wizards unless magic is involved – and even then, it has to be an extreme case of magical impropriety.

He nods before adding, “I have an appointment with _Granger_ today.”

Mother shoots him a stern look and says, “Draco _,_ ” in a voice that suggests someone outside the house could hear the contempt in his voice. I am not bothered by his negative attitude towards my friend’s mum, knowing they did not get on during school and Father greatly dislikes being at a disadvantage around anyone.

“I hear she is fair,” I say, breaking apart the angry looks my parents are not-so-secretly giving one another. “Your previous meetings have gone well up to now, this one shouldn’t be different.” I make a point of being businesslike with Father as it puts him at ease. He, even more so than Mother, needs to maintain a pureblood rigidity which has been difficult while openly seeking the legal ability to prosecute Corbin for his offenses against me.

“I can only hope that the Ministry sees reason,” his cheeks go pink and he draws a sharp breath, pausing to clench a fist – a sign that he is steadying himself. “Unfortunately, gold and family name do not go as far as they once did,” he finishes coolly.

Soon Father departs, leaving Mother and I to read the paper and idly chat. It is in the quiet moments that I feel the most at ease around my family. The Healer they brought in explained that I need to be and feel whatever emotions come over me and that they will be difficult ones at best. This advice does not stop Mother from fetching anything she can think of to help when tears come without provocation. She always needs to know what the matter is which is almost always impossible to vocalize.

After a period of silence, Mother clears her throat to ask, “Are you still going for lunch with Albus?” I glance up and see the fear behind her eyes. It’s the first time I’ve been brave enough to venture out since returning to London. Corbin is out there somewhere and fear of him has kept me trapped in the gilded cage others would call home.

“Yes,” I say firmly. This is to affirm the action to myself as well as convey my determination to have a normal social interaction. Softening my voice, I go on, “The Healer said I should integrate normal activity into my life as I feel ready for it – and I’m ready to see my friends.”

Mother smiles and I know a rebuttal is coming. “You could have a normal activity with Albus here. I bet Kal could whip up anything you two boys are in the mood for.”

The same suggestion was made when I first arranged to see Albus so I repeat the same counterargument, “We’re going to eat in a public place where we’ll be perfectly safe and surrounded by other wizards should the need to do magic arise.”

Fidgeting in her seat, Mother inflates herself for a speech. “I’m only worried about your safety-“

A laugh escapes my lips without thought and I quickly explain. “We’ll have an Auror bodyguard with us,” I say, thinking of Albus’ boyfriend. “Brandon will be able to take care of anything that could happen.” Mother seems to accept this as adequate protection and drops the subject.

We never actually say Corbin’s name as it passes through my mouth with difficulty and my parents have already dismissed his existence. The Healer who has been meeting with me suggests it is best to say his name when appropriate in conversation but I don’t feel ready to vocalize the name associated with so much terror.

Albus arrives punctually to escort me to lunch. Mother greets him with enthusiasm unlike he has ever seen from her before. I realize her purpose in doing so as she becomes stern, asking, “Where is Brandon? I thought he was lunching with you as well.”

“He’s meeting us at the restaurant,” Albus says automatically. There is a moment of confusion on his face until he seems to guess at the conversation I had with Mother earlier on and her concerns. “We should be back in a few hours but I’ll owl if we make other plans.” We are off after only a few more minutes of courtesy between Albus and Mother.

The restaurant is packed as expected, making our reserved table a necessity. I feel exposed on the bright, sunny patio and request a table inside, near a wall. My eyes snap from person to person in the restaurant as we relocate and I suddenly wish we were at Malfoy Manor. Tears spring to my eyes when I catch sight of a blond man with a short haircut but a moment’s further inspection shows that he is not Corbin.

“Are you alright?” Brandon asks once we’ve taken our new seats. Where I avoid telling my parents, Albus, and Rose when my emotions run wild, Brandon is the only person I see regularly besides the Healer who does expect me to be anything other than I am.

I nod and say, “I just thought I saw him,” in a quiet voice. Albus appears disconcerted by this information, his eyes darting around the restaurant but Brandon gives me a reassuring look.

“I understand – sometimes I see Cora’s mother in the street when it’s been a few years since she passed,” he tells me calmly.

This news causes Albus’ head to snap back from his visual search of the restaurant. “You’ve never told me that,” he says in a sharper voice than necessary. I smile at his jealousy and at Brandon’s reaction – placing a kiss on Al’s forehead.

We enjoy a filling lunch together. Albus is entertaining us with a story about a young girl who tried to sneak out of Weasley Wizard Wheezes with stolen merchandise. It sounds as if their anti-theft spells are worth setting off with the hilarious spells they set cause. It is the first time in weeks that I am able to talk with anyone and not feel burdened by Corbin. I know he will infect my thoughts during idle hours but those spent with friends vanquish him from my mind.

Brandon tells us about a wizard who experimented with appearance modification spells and was rushed to St. Mungo’s where they needed to use a shrinking potion before getting him in the door. We are aghast with laughter when a waiter comes by to collect our plates.

“I am finished,” I start to say before seeing a familiar face out of the corner of my eye. I blink, knowing that it’s my imagination again before forcing myself to turn to see Corbin in the flesh.

Albus, moments behind me in recognition, begins to snarl a less than polite greeting when Brandon stands up. “You should leave,” he says simply. While it is the first time seeing Corbin, Brandon does not need to be introduced to the man in front of him to know who he is addressing.

Corbin looks up into Brandon’s face and seems to recognize the air of authority he projects and takes a half-step back. “I merely came to talk with my boy-“

Anger flies through me at a lightning speed. “I am _not_ your boyfriend,” I spit with venom. A new wave of emotions race through me and I begin to cry. “Please leave,” I ask in a firm but croaky voice. “I do not wish to see you.” These are not my words, they are phrases the Healer teaches me with every lesson so I can relearn to assert myself.

Just when Corbin begins to turn away from the table, he pauses and pulls a long, thin wand from his pocket. It is a mistake for him to attempt violence as Brandon, ready for such a maneuver, subdues him before any violence is acted out. “Sir, I am going to ask you to come with me to the Ministry,” he says in a routine matter. “Threatening magical violence in a public place is against our laws.”

I watch them leave, as does most of the restaurant. Albus places some gold on the table and leads me from the restaurant as well. We apparate back to Malfoy Manor where I dread telling Mother about the incident as she was afraid of any run-ins with Corbin. When we are in the foyer, I cry in earnest. Mother comes running and calls Kal for a calming draught.

Shaking my head, I tell her, “No, I do not need to take anything. We just…” As my voice trails off Albus fills her in on Corbin’s surprise appearance at lunch. Mother takes us into the library where Albus and I sit together. He holds me gently as I cry, not able to form the words to describe what I am feeling. It is the first time I am able to just cry myself out with another person there and the relief it brings is uplifting.

My Healer comes by later that afternoon – an emergency call from Mother no doubt – and seems strangely satisfied by the day’s events. He tells me that voicing my desire for Corbin to leave was tremendous progress. The affirmation registers as a fleeting victory but it registers nonetheless.

When Father returns that evening, he is quite pleased with the day. He tells us that there is a precedent for prosecuting abuse although it has not be enforced in living memory. The law still needs to be formally reviewed by the Wizengamot but they are scheduling a trial in two months’ time. My thoughts drift to Corbin in jail and I feel equal parts grief, elation, and sorrow. I grieve for the relationship that became an unrecognizable horror, am joyous that I may not face his abuses again, feel contrite that he is out of my life for good.

Everyone talks about what a long, difficult journey it is to heal from abuse but no one says how confusing it can be too.


End file.
